Split
by cleverdistraction
Summary: Chapter 4! WHOA! What the new captain really wants to know is: Are the rumors true? And if so, will their relationship survive the scrutiny? BarekLogan. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Split

Author: Laura

Disclaimers: Want to know how you can tell the show isn't mine? I would've kept Annabella Sciorra! ugh. Dick, I can't say I'm very proud of you right now…but you own it anyway.

Rating: T for some curse words…I figure if I have a problem not cursing, so can Barek when it's called for. lol.

Pairing: Barek/Logan, of course!

Summary: There had been a rumor circulating lately that Mike Logan, the playboy of the NYPD, had stopped sleeping around. For the most part, no one, save a few disappointed secretaries, really cared…that was, no one cared until their new captain got a tip that things between Barek and Logan might be more than friendly. A stickler for rules and efficiency, their new captain wants to get to the bottom of it. How can Barek and Logan stay together, professionally and personally, amidst such deep scrutiny? How long can their relationship survive when they've become an example of what not to do? And what really are the motives behind this new administration?

Authors Note: When I heard the rumor that Annabella Scoirra isn't coming back (cries), I immediately went into mourning. I'm still sort of there (as sad as that sounds for my personal life…)…and, basically, the idea for this fic is the only good thing that is coming out of it (IMHO). Now, granted, this fic probably isn't very good…but the idea was, I promise. It's just, you know, the follow through that needs some help! lol. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

"Fuck. Mike I can't find my bra! Do you know where it is?"

"What? After you threw it across the room last night?"

"Me? I'm not the one who did the ripping off of the clothes last night, Mr. Impatient." Carolyn's head poked out of the bedroom doorway and gave him a pointed look before disappearing. In the kitchen, Mike let out a chuckle and went back to scrambling the eggs. When Carolyn walked into the adjoining living room wrapped only in a towel, Mike lifted his eyes and watched her. Positioned with one knee and one foot on the cushion below her while she leaned over the back, Carolyn rummaged around looking for her missing garment.

"Be careful which way you bend, there, babe...wouldn't want to give the neighbors a free show." She whipped her head around to glare at him as he stood leaning against the doorframe with the skillet in one hand and a spatula in the other. He smiled at her as she narrowed her eyes and returned to her searching. The sound of toast popping up broke Mike's concentration and he stole one more glance in her direction before he went to retrieve the charred bread. He looked at it quizzically and heaved a sigh as he threw the two severely burnt pieces of toast on top of the collection building up in the garbage. He pulled two more slices from the loaf and put them into the broken toaster. "Car, give me a heads up in about a minute, okay?"

He heard faint laughter echoing from the next room as she spoke, "Did you burn another loaf of bread in the toaster?"

He looked to the wall indignantly and scoffed before answering, "Not a whole loaf this time! Geez, you make one lousy mistake and you never hear the end of it..."

"As long as there's toast on the table and you're buying the bread, I really could care less, babe."

"That's what I thought!" He walked across the small kitchen and stood in front of the toaster, pausing a bit before a thought of a different kind struck him. "Did you ever find your bra?"

"No! Where the hell did you throw it last night?" He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, rethinking the events of the previous few hours.

"You know...I really have no idea. Were you even wearing one?" After a few seconds of silence, he heard a distinct thump come from the bedroom followed by muffled cursing. Just as he opened his mouth to yell out, Carolyn beat him to the punch.

"Toast!" His eyebrows knit in confusion for a second before he realized that his minute was up and Carolyn's impeccable sense of time had saved yet another two pieces of toast from joining the rest in the garbage. As he shut off the toaster and pried out the bread, he called out to ask about the noise. A few seconds and several strange noises later, Carolyn glided into the kitchen wearing one of his blue button-up shirts and a delicate frown. She slumped into one of the chairs at the table and tucked one leg underneath her. Mike buttered the toast and brought it with the skillet of eggs over to the table. He looked at her as she pouted and laughed at her.

"I take it that you never found it, right?" She looked at him and shook her head, resignedly.

"No...I don't know where the hell it could be...I look in between the cushions, underneath and behind the couch, under the bed, and behind the dresser...it's just...gone."

Mike raised his eyebrows in a 'I'm-the-man" sort of fashion and asked, "Did you check--"

"Yes," she cut him off. "I checked there first."

"Oh. Then I don't know." He shrugged and shovelled the eggs onto their plates and sat down to eat. Carolyn rolled her eyes at his comment and plowed her fork into the eggs.

"Of course you don't know. What do you care, you aren't the one who has to look presentable..." She lifted the fork to her mouth and devoured a few bites as Mike looked at her in mock hurt. Then, as if a light came on in his head, his frown turned to a devilish smile. Before he spoke, Carolyn thrust her fork in his direction and said, "Don't even go there if you want me coming home with you after work tonight."

He pulled his arms back in innocence and feigned shock behind the smirk playing at his lips. "I would never insult you, why would you ever think--" His words were cut off by a fabric napkin hitting him square on the mouth.

"Oh shut up!" She laughed and grabbed her napkin from where it fell onto the table. He rolled his eyes at her and took his command as an excuse to fill his mouth with eggs and toast. Carolyn scrunched up her face and laughingly said, "You are disgusting."

Mike just shrugged and began to speak around the food in his mouth. "Yeah, well, you're the one sleeping with me..." She blushed bright red and lowered her head to look at the eggs she was pushing around on her plate.

"What time is it?" she said, looking at the clock on the oven. "Shit! I should be going." The smile on his face faded when she moved to get up and retrieve the rest of her clothes. He set down the fork in is hand and followed her to the bedroom. He watched as she pulled on her pants and threw her suit jacket over arm. Before she left the room in a flurry of brown hair and black and blue clothes, he caught her arm.

"Hey, you know you don't have to leave..." he said softly, wondering why the hell he couldn't keep his big mouth shut during breakfast. She gave him a small smile and went to grab her purse.

"I know, but some barbarian threw my bra God-knows-where last night and if I want to be at work on time, I've got to run home right now and get a new one." Her smile grew and she laughed as realization dawned on him.

"So, I'm not an ass?" She laughed even harder at this.

"No, you're always an ass, but I love you despite that." He leaned down and kissed her before she moved to walk out the door. As she strode to the door and opened it, she stood in the doorway and looked back at him. "You'll get your shirt back tonight, but you've gotta prove that you really want it back." She winked at him and walked to the elevator down the hall as he ran to the door to call out after her.

"I'd really rather not lose my shirt, you know! You've got this strange habit of losing the clothes on your back!" She let out a loud, mischevious chuckle and called back to him.

"My place tonight. And we'll see about the shirt..." He laughed and watched her get into the elevator before he went to clean their breakfast off the table.

-----

When Mike walked into work, late as usual, Carolyn was sitting at her desk, typing away furiously at her computer.

"Did you have too much coffee this morning?"

"I've only had two cups." She began typing again, and then, after a beat, stopped to look at him. "Wait...why?"

He pointed at her keyboard and shook his head. "Because if you type any faster, that thing will break. What the hell are you up to this early anyway?"

"Paperwork."

"Paperwork? But we finished that last--" Mike's voice lowered to a nervous whisper, "Oh shit."

"Yeah. That's why I'm doing the paperwork."

"How'd we forget to do that?"

Carolyn looked up at him with a caught look on her face--one eyebrow arched up and a gentle smile that said, 'duh.' She laughed a little and shook her head. "Well, Mike, if you don't know that by now, I don't think I should--"

"Stop. Stop right there. I know how...I just don't know...how..."

"It just...happened...now shut up so I can finish it before our asses get reamed because someone had other ideas about how we should've used our time." Mike looked down at his desk sheepishly and shut his mouth.

"Barek! Logan! In my office. Now!" came a loud bellow from the captain's office. Since Jimmy Deakins went into 'retirement,' the squad dynamic had changed more than slightly. There was nothing completely drastic about the change--cops knew more than most how quickly life can evolve from one moment to the next--but it was palpable. The open, familial nature of the office under Deakins had now turned stale. No one talked as they poured their coffee. No one knocked on the captain's door unscheduled. No one chanced a conversation with anyone other than their partner during a case.

It was suppressive and mechanical, uniform and efficient. And it was lacking...deeply lacking. There was a distinct twinge of sadness replaced by re-doubled effort at the loss of their dear Captain (in an attempt to make him proud one last time). But riding on the end of that new wave of effort came the new wave of Captain Mahoney.

It wasn't that Mahoney was a bad man--he didn't waltz in one day unannounced and declare himself dictator--he was a good man, with a home and a family he loved. But the fact of the matter for everyone involved was that--he wasn't Deakins. When the realization of that fact had set in, so did the resentment of Mahoney.

The veterans of the squad were exasperated, sick of seeing yet another good man come and go. The rookies were indignant, not understanding the situation and not ready to give up the captain that had brought them so far. But, among the entire squad, most believed the lie of retirement, too afraid and too unsure to ask questions.

After time, the resentment faded, and by the end of the first two weeks, people were more inclined to stop calling him their "new captain." Now he was just Mahoney. But the four that knew the truth behind the situation cringed at the thought.

After all, Mahoney was no Deakins.

However, while acceptance translated into respect, it did not translate into comfort. Mike looked around the squad room and saw the uncertain faces behind desks, worried for their futures in the department. Everyone began to work like the day was their last—afraid that one wrong look or remark would send them packing like so many others. There were to be changes made, the captain had said—changes in personnel and in attitudes. It was the day of that grand and terrifying speech that Mike had begun to largely fear for his own job. He knew the gossip going around—that he was the reason for this change and that no one believed there was any way of his keeping his job after numerous stunts. It was his action that set the chain of events off--it was that no good day outside of that no good diner that had started it all. He knew that if anyone was going anywhere, it would be him--the slightly idiotic loose cannon of Major Case.

He fantasized about it sometimes--that he would be reassigned and Barek would get another partner. Only this one would be perfect. This guy wouldn't screw up and fumble around--he wouldn't stick his foot in his mouth. And if they ever slept together like him and Barek--he sure as hell wouldn't lose her bra someplace in his impeccably clean apartment. Yeah, if that day came, he knew he'd be done for. He'd lose the job, the girl, and his sanity--which also happened to coincide with being with the girl…

So he had sat back and kept his mouth shut. He had watched and waited and anticipated the fateful day of his own reckoning. The day they'd send him back to Staten Island…or maybe even someplace worse…or maybe they would just fire him altogether…and now, so many years after his peak, who else would want him? He was unruly at best…and at worst…well…he didn't like to think of it in those terms…

So now, when the new Captain barked his name, his stomach dropped and he knew he would be fired. He was only waiting for the day it would happen.

Barek, on the other hand, seemed more indifferent with the way things were. To anyone else, it almost looked as if she had never cared in the first place, but Mike knew better. Even if they hadn't talked about it that one night as they were lying on the couch together, he would've known. But he asked her anyway—he wanted to hear the words come out of her mouth as a reassurance to himself. He knew she'd say it in a way that would make him feel better about the coming changes. That she would set him straight just like she always did.

Suffice it to say, he was thrown for a loop when she had simply said, "I miss Deakins as much as you do, but change happens. Live with it." Granted, he knew she was tired, and after the abruptness of the statement had shut him up for a few minutes, she had drifted to sleep. But a part of him thought that maybe the lure of sleep hadn't caused her rough words—that she had meant it like she said it. He knew it had been too much to ask at that late hour, but he was also hoping for one of her more lucid interpretations—maybe something about everyone missing him and this not being his own fault. But no, she fell asleep and that had been the end of the conversation.

And now she was sitting in Mahoney's office with him like nothing had ever changed. He glanced at her as she argued with the captain as to why the paperwork was late, and what he saw when he looked built him up more than any words. She was strong and resilient—and she wasn't taking any crap, but she wasn't complaining that things hadn't turned out according to plan. She just rolled with the punches and gave some back occasionally.

It was then that Mahoney interrupted his thoughts with a loud outburst, "Okay, fine, you two...get that paperwork to me by noon and all is forgiven. Any later than noon and your asses are mine. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," they both echoed as he motioned for them to leave his office. They had only gotten about halfway to their desks when the captain's loud voice rang out another pair of names to join him in the office.

"So," Mike said as he watched two new additions to Major Case stand up and walk toward the captain's office, "what'd you tell him about the paperwork?"

Carolyn looked at him incredulously. "How do you sit through a whole conversation and not know what happened in it?"

"By thinking about more important things," he said smugly with a wicked smile plastered to his face. She rolled her eyes and sat down to her computer once more, resuming her quickly paced typing. He interrupted her again, not willing to let the subject drop until he had an answer, "What did you tell him?"

"That we both left the office under the impression that it was done and that we reviewed it this morning and found that we missed some spots."

He laughed at her and lifted an eyebrow in a menacing stare. "We missed some spots? Do those spots refer to the entirety of the front page or the back page?"

"What did you want me to say, Logan? That we were too busy ripping off each others' clothes to notice that the paperwork we had brought home never got finished?" She dropped her voice to a harsh whisper and leaned forward across her desk to snap at him. He did the same and began pointing to a file so that the wandering eyes in the squad room would believe they were going over a case.

"So you admit it, then?"

"Admit what?" she said a little louder.

"That the ripping off of the clothes was, in fact, mutual!" He continued quietly, unfazed by her feigning innocence. She laughed at the funny expression on his face and thought that he almost looked like a little boy sitting before her.

"I admitted no such thing! I think you heard me wrong…what I said was 'you were too busy ripping off my clothes to do the paperwork.' You might want to get your hearing checked…" She smiled at him cheekily and her eyes dared him to call her on it, but he knew better. He'd get his revenge, he thought to himself…and he would get it tonight.

"We'll settle this later—you and me—with no prying eyes of the NYPD gossip mill."

TBC

remember to review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Split, Chapter 2

Disclaimers, Author Information, Rating, etc.: visit Chapter 1.

Note on the disclaimer: yeah, I lied…I do own Schuesetter (yeah, shoe-setter, only spelled weird because I can…) and Mahoney, but that's it…Dick, if you want to borrow either one or the idea, bring back Sciorra and we'll talk. lol. (yes, I _am_ still bitter, thanks for asking! haha)

A/N: So, chapter 2…the middle Barek/Logan beginning scene is based on a review I got because I read it and was like, 'hah! You know, they're right…wait! I got it!' So, to Jenna Luri, this chapter is dedicated to your concern about Mike having cloth napkins. haha. I'd just like to thank you all for the awesome reviews! They really make me all excited to write another chapter and who knows, part of your review may just influence where the next chapter goes! Yeah, that was shameless begging for reviews! lol. Oh, and it's quite the long chapter. I was going to divide it, but I couldn't wait that long…haha.

Chapter 2

"Something's wrong with that whole situation, sir. With both of them, I think." A short, stocky man said, exasperated.

"No, we checked out Goren and Eames...there's nothing there. And if there is, they hide it well enough for me to look the other way. Plus, you two get numbers like them and then we'll talk…" Captain Mahoney said as he looked at the pair in front of him. Schuesetter and Bishop had been his own additions to Major Case--Schuesetter was a short, chunky man with a sharp but apprehensive mind.

Bishop had spent her own time on the squad as a replacement for Eames, but since her departure at the request of Captain Deakins and Detective Goren, had been working in Narcotics. She was a sharp, tall thing with a sickening amount of naivety that kept her following in her partner's footsteps.

The two worked marvelously together, sharing in responsibility and recklessness, but kept their hands free of enough dirt to keep them from suspicion. Neither detective was overwhelmingly popular or even well-known around the squad which made them the perfect eyes and ears for their new captain. As soon as they had set up their desks at Major Case, Mahoney had called them in to do a little investigating of their own.

Their task was to get a read on all the fixtures of the squad that had arrived upon the request of Jimmy Deakins. According to Mahoney's sources, Deakins' men were the mutts of the NYPD, and his women were more than willing to cover for them. The whole lot was under suspicion and Mahoney was ordered to look into them.

Upon Mahoney's placement as the Captain of Major Case, he was ordered to increase solve rates and cut out any 'undesirables.' He knew what his superiors meant—Goren and Logan, and if need be, Eames and Barek as well. But Mahoney didn't feel right firing or replacing people of whom he had no personal knowledge; he felt that it was only right to have a reason for termination. So, he had sent Schuesetter and Bishop on a mission to gather as much information on these detectives as possible--dirt and otherwise.

But sitting in this meeting, he found that they had mostly come up with dirt.

"So, you're keeping them?" Bishop asked with a queasy look on her face. Her feelings on Goren and Eames weren't exactly a secret.

"Yes, I'm keeping them. You've only brought me unsubstantiated gossip coupled with an amazing track record—I'm supposed to be bringing our solve rates up, not down. And unless you've got proof on your other claim, the same goes for them as well."

"Barek and Logan? Those two we've got…" said Schuesetter happily, nodding at Bishop to begin.

"Well, we've watched them over the course of these last few weeks...they've got all the markings of an affair…Their paperwork is late, they leave at the same time--together, they go to lunch together everyday, and, frankly, there's a plethora of hickeys--which I might add, is truly disgusting..."

"Captain, I'll get right down to it," an impatient Schuesetter interrupted, "They are sleeping together." Schuesetter began, laying out photographs on the Captain's desk. "This is a photograph logged at 7:30 Sunday night. Clearly, it shows Barek and Logan arriving at his apartment with food in hand--"

"Which proves that they decided to work on a case together," Mahoney interrupted, not understanding where the picture show was going.

"But, the paperwork due the next day wasn't finished that night. If all they were doing was finishing up a case, the paperwork would be done."

"So they missed an area...do you have anything else?"

"Well, we have this second photograph...which is one of Barek leaving the apartment in Logan's shirt from the night before," he said, pointing to Mike's shirt in the first picture. "This one is logged at 7:15 on Monday morning."

"You're sure that it's Logan's shirt?"

"Sure as hell ain't hers." Bishop concluded viciously.

"So, they're sleeping together, we assume?"

"Yes, sir, they're sleeping together." Schuesetter sat back with a self-pleased smile on his face.

"Have they tried to hide it or is it, well...blatant?"

"They've tried to hide it, sir," Bishop interrupted again. "They just didn't realize anyone was watching. They haven't gone out anywhere as, well, a couple...they just stay at one of their apartments. And I think you can draw your own conclusions as to what they're doing..." Bishop blushed a rather unsightly shade of red that contrasted sharply with her hair. Mahoney shook his head at the sight, slightly in disbelief at the immaturity of his detectives. At that point, he knew that he never should have given these two the task of gathering information on his detectives. Not only were their actions dishonest, but they had taken it too far.

"Now, you two, I never asked anyone to put surveillance on Barek and Logan...who'd you have do it?"

"We did it, sir," Bishop said proudly, a smile prominent on her face. Schuesetter chanced a glare at her before she continued, unfazed by his subtle attempts at telling her to be quiet. "I took Barek's apartment while he took Logan's. If Barek went to Logan's, I went home for the night and came back at 6, and vice versa."

"We were happy to do it, sir," Schuesetter said smugly.

"Fine, but anymore unauthorized surveillance of my detectives and you two will be looking for different jobs, got it?"

"Sir, not to be argumentative," he said, growing a backbone, "but you asked us to get into this--you asked us to find out information on your detectives, and you didn't tell us what we could and could not do."

"Is that a threat, Schuesetter? Because as far as I see it, no matter whose ass you kissed to get into this squad, I'm the man who can show you the door."

He looked at Mahoney with a dangerous gleam in his eyes and spat out his next words, "You know Adair wouldn't like that--and he's the one calling the shots. You're just a puppet in a marionette show."

"Adair's in jail and while he's there, I'm calling the shots."

"We both know that isn't true, but believe what you have to in order to make it through the day, Captain. Just remember that Adair's got eyes and ears throughout this department." Schuesetter narrowed his eyes and motioned for a confused Bishop to follow him.

"Schuesetter, Bishop," Mahoney called to them authoritatively. "Barek and Logan--they do the same thing tonight, I want you to wait two hours and call me, got it?" Schuesetter smiled and nodded his head.

"Yes, sir." The two detectives left Mahoney's office and ventured to their desks to discuss their plan for the night while Mahoney sat back down at his desk and closed his eyes, wishing away the circumstances that had brought him this far. Somehow, between the suspects and arrests of his day, he got caught up in Frank Adair's dirty politics and now it was costing him the control of his squad and was set on ruining the lives of two of his finest. Logan and Barek and never been given a fair shake and he could barely bring himself to aide in the destruction of their partnership, but facts were facts--they were new and Adair wanted them out...or else. As Mahoney stared at the picture of his family on the desk, he realized that it was him or them--and he didn't want a partnership fling to be the reason his kids grew up without a father.

----

"Why, in the name of all you think is holy, am I in a Bed, Bath, and Beyond? WHY?" Mike's face scrunched up in agony as he whined to the chuckling woman in front of him. Carolyn turned around, hands still firmly placed on the cart in front of her, and smiled fully at him--more than pleased that she had managed to get him to deter his thoughts from sex and work. "I was promised sex...and this--THIS--is not sex...this is like...the opposite of sex."

Well, the deterrence had lasted for a brief moment in the very least. She looked at him and blushed slightly, barely containing her laugh as she tried to scold him. "I do not remember promising you anything of the sort!"

He frowned at her then, not pleased with where this conversation was headed. "You're messing with my head, right? Like this afternoon in the squad room...you're saying you didn't say something that you did, in fact, say, right?" She furrowed her brows and looked at him in confusion, though she had developed a talent of understanding his upset ramblings a long time ago. She turned around to face him with her hands positioned behind her on the cart.

"I have no idea what you're talking about...if you're insinuating that I am in some way tricking you, then I am hurt at the accusation," she said, throwing her right hand to her heart dramatically, "But if you're referring to what I said at lunch, I did say that I had a very special surprise in store for you after we were done with work. And look," she pointed a finger to his stunned face, "I can tell that you're surprised!"

When she dropped her finger, he shoved his in her face and narrowed his eyes. "Evil woman...you are an evil woman!" He stalked down the aisle with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a sullen little boy and that, she mused, wasn't at all attractive. Time to play on his level.

"Well, you see, the better you behave, the more fun we can have later...if you know what I mean." She turned to face his retreating back and pushed the cart up next to him as he stopped to look at her. He dared not to look intrigued, covering his excitement with cynicism.

"Oh, goodie, after a dinner of low-fat tofu we get to play a rousing game of chess?" His face lit up in sarcastic joy before it fell into its usual look of disbelief.

She laughed at him and pushed the cart further, heading toward the sheets. "I wasn't thinking chess, but now that you mention it, it is a very beneficial game for the body's--"

"Here we go again!" He sighed and she laughed at him, smacking him gently in the shoulder as she steered the cart past him and toward the satin sheets.

"Well, I wasn't thinking chess...I was thinking more along the lines of...some new sheets." She stopped at the end of the aisle and eased one eyebrow up in a semi-seductive stance. He walked over to her side and she lifted herself to her tip-toes to whisper in his ear. "You know what else is beneficial to the body? Satin sheets...less friction and…nice sensations...or so I've read..."

She winked at him just before he began to speak. "Beauty, brains, and she's well-read...have I mentioned how much of a turn-on you are?" He left her standing at the end of the aisle with a mischievous smile on her face as he looked at the sheets in awe.

"And you didn't want to come here..." He flashed a grin at her while fumbling with black and red sheet sets, trying to figure out the less than obvious difference between the two. "You...keep yourself occupied with those and I'm going to get you a new shower curtain."

He looked up from his examination of the packages and stared at her in confusion--confusion being the theme of the night, he thought to himself. "What's wrong with my shower curtain?"

"Beside the fact that it's basically non-existant and threadbare, it doesn't match anything in your bathroom...and if I have to stare at that awful thing another morning, I think I may leave you." She looked at him pointedly and he simply shrugged.

"Do whatever you want, just as long as you're around come morning..."

"That's what I intended on doing."

-----

Upon their arrival in her apartment an hour later, Carolyn took the three new towels into her laundry room and threw them into the washer. 'Thank God we're at my place tonight,' she thought to herself while throwing in the load.

It wasn't that she didn't like Mike's apartment, it was just that she could never bring herself to do her laundry there. The cramped and barely navigate-able laundry room was literally a large, chaotic mess. Every time she walked into that room, she cringed. It was poorly lit (because Mike refused to change two of the lightbulbs), and it had become a sort of storage room for the ungodly amounts of crap he liked to keep around (because every other storage closet was already filled). The washer was old and made odd creaks and moans when it got halfway through a load. The dryer, while almost less frightening than the washer, tended to rumble so much that it ended up at least a foot from where it had originated--and Carolyn thought for sure that it would just explode from sheer effort one of these days.

Needless to say, Carolyn was more than happy to buy herself new towels for his apartment and bring them home to wash them. She'd take them home and wash them every time they were dirty if it meant clean towels for her when she woke up in the morning at his apartment. She had been doing that a lot lately--buying things for his apartment that he'd never use just because it made her feel more civilized while she was there—like towels and shower curtains and napkins. He hadn't had napkins there her first night--clean, used, paper, cloth, or otherwise. There weren't any. She'd had to run into the bathroom for toilet paper when she needed to clean some spilled coffee. So the first thing she did after work the next day was buy him napkins--paper and cloth. He barely touched either, and she wasn't sure if he'd even laid a hand on the cloth ones until she had explained to him what they were, but he never complained. He simply rolled his eyes and set them out every morning for breakfast and every night for dinner.

As her new washing machine roared to life, she looked around in gratitude--to her mother of all people--for having been brought up as a habitual cleaner. She couldn't even imagine what messes would go unchecked if her and Mike both detested cleaning. She shook her head at the thought and gathered the clothes out of her dryer to put them in a laundry basket. Leaving the clothes in their pile, she ventured out of the room and into the kitchen where Mike stood by the stove, glaring at it as though it were out to get him. She leaned against the far wall and crossed her arms, amused by watching him internally wrestle with the thought of having to cook dinner (he was barely getting down breakfast as it was...). After he chanced a step toward the appliance, she spoke out and startled him.

"We can order out, you know." He turned to look at her and his wide-eyed expression melted into one of relief as her words sunk in.

"Good."

"Okay...we've got menus from...Ushanski's Deli and Sushi, The Bronx Pagoda, and Kenny's All-American Bistro?" She stated, disbelief evident in her voice as she read the names. "Really? What the hell _are_ these places? Who comes up with these names?"

"I think you'd like Kenny's more than Ushanski's and tonight's just _not_ a Chinese night..."

"You like these places? They sound like names from some really lame horror novel!"

"But have you tried Kenny's 'Hottest Hot Wings?' Mmmm."

"You are incredible..." she said in slight disgust, "Kenny's it is, I guess..."

"Alright, I'll call, and you just go get comfortable."

"I want anything that isn't going to make me sick in the next few days...think you can manage that?"

"But after a few days, it's alright? Because that changes the menu completely!" He chuckled heartily at her as she chucked a pillow from the couch in the general direction of the kitchen.

"I don't want anything that will potentially make me sick. Ever." She shook her head and laughed as the person on the other end of the line picked up and Mike began to order for them.

"They said about twenty minutes, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled sweetly at him as he approached the couch and sat down behind her sprawled out form. She waited until he got comfortable and then added innocently, "Mike? In about twenty minutes could you get the door?"

His head fell back against the armrest of the couch as he wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her to him. "First you take me to a girly store, then you make me order dinner, and now you're sticking me with the bill?"

"I bought you sheets and a shower curtain." she pointed out helpfully.

"Neither of which I asked for..."

"Okay, I guess those sheets are going back then..."

"Tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Nah, I'll just go return them when I get up to buy your dinner so that you can lounge around my apartment while _my_ washing machine washes _your_ towels." She tried to lay on the guilt, but had the distinct feeling that it wasn't quite working.

"That's just because you're afraid of my laundry room." Silence. "Told you…"

"You're like a little kid, d'you know that?"

"Am not! I can't believe you'd even make the comparison!"

"Yeah, you're right...you're the grown up one in this relationship, I forgot." She gave him a pointed look and snuggled back into his embrace, not caring how contradictory the two actions were. "So...I heard a rumor about you today..."

"Yeah, and you're the grown up one? Right." He cocked his eyebrow and laid his head back as he shifted deeper into the cushions.

"_Anyway_, I heard a rumor about you today," she paused for dramatic effect and supposed that before she continued, he would interrupt.

Which he did. "Oh yeah? Well," he paused a moment to think of anything he might have screwed up in the past few weeks, "...don't believe it because it wasn't me."

She laughed at him and laid her head back to fit in the crook of his neck. "No, it was a good rumor...well, a good rumor for me, and...a bad rumor for your reputation."

"Am I supposed to feel good or bad about that?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, your elbow is strategically positioned in a dangerous area and I don't want it going anywhere..." He looked down at her arm as it moved to smack him across the chest.

"Do you want to know the rumor or not?" she asked, cutting through all the crap.

"Yes, I do," he said obediently, shaking his head in the affirmative.

"Well, the rumor going around the women in the squad room--you know, the secretaries and the female detectives--well, apparently, the infamous Mike Logan--playboy of the NYPD--has gone cold turkey. Rumor is, about four months after you transferred in, the sleeping around--for lack of a better term--stopped. All the women are disappointed, to say the least...I even heard some...offers...of 'rehabilitation' from a few of the secretaries. None of which I really wanted to hear, mind you..." Carolyn visibly shuddered and wrapped her arms around him. "So, Mike, are the rumors true--has Sex-God Mike Logan gone sexless? Have you taken 'one night stands' off your social calendar?" she asked him innocently, with a wink and a goofy smile.

"One night stands, yes. Sex, no. And it was two months after I transferred—one month after I met you. Tell the Gossips that Mike Logan is a one-woman man nowadays...but that he wishes to keep the title of Sex-God because he's hoping it impresses his absolutely stunning girlfriend..." he said with a cheeky smile.

"Well, knowing that you only received the title from sleeping with...thousands of women...doesn't necessarily inspire a whole lot of confidence in our relationship, no matter how impressive." He looked down at her comfortable position snuggled into his side. He brought his hand up and cupped the side of her smiling face while he brushed his lips across her forehead.

Still holding her face in his hand, he whispered to her, "Everything I'll ever need is right here, not in some bar with some woman whose name I'll undoubtedly forget by the end of the night. I've never snuck out on you and I've never made you take the walk of shame...and I never will...because you're not them and this," he motioned between them, "is different."

"Because of all that sentimental crap, I'll pay for dinner, okay?"

"I knew that'd work!"

"Oh, shut up..."

"Only if I can use my mouth for something better?"

"Promise?" She winked at him as he smiled devilishly at her and devoured her mouth with his own. He kissed her full and long, coaxing his tongue into her mouth as his free hand roamed over her body. She leaned up into him with encouragement and brought her hand up and laced it in his hair, bringing his face down forcefully onto hers. She moved backward into a sitting position and straddled him, breaking her lips from his only to adjust herself and her breathing. Their lips met again and their tongues clashed in fiery passion as his hand slid gently underneath the hem of her shirt. She moaned into his mouth and nipped at his lower lip with her teeth in retaliation.

_Buzz._

_Thump._

"Fuck." Carolyn swore as she hit her arm on the coffee table in surprise at the sound of the buzzer. Mike, unfazed by the sound of food, kissed the spot on her arm and, in one smooth motion, had her once again on the couch with his lips creating a stunning sensation on her neck--literally stunning, it took Carolyn more than a second to recover from his advances and even longer to bring them to a halt. "Mike," she pleaded, "stop...that's the food."

"Not hungry," he mumbled into her skin, intent on making her trip from the couch to the door as difficult as possible. As soon as the words were out of his mouth and the buzzer rang a second time, a loud _thwap_ echoed off Mike's chest before she went to ring the takeout into the building.

Snatching her purse from its resting spot on the table, she flipped through a couple bills before looking over to Mike on the couch and opening her mouth to speak. Before she uttered a word, Mike shot out, "Twenty-two-fifty plus tip."

She shook her head in amazement at fact that they were frighteningly aware of each other. A loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and without thinking, she went to answer it, money in hand. Before she made it to the door, Mike had come up behind her and picked her up, tossing her gently back onto the couch. 'So much for being aware of each other,' she thought in surprise.

"I got it, you just sit there and eagerly await the Hottest Hot Wings..."

"Oh man, what did I do to deserve you? Going to 'Bed, Bath, and Beyond' and then buying dinner! What a deal!" she called as he went to open the door. "I think I'll keep you around for a bit."

"You'd better be keeping me around for a long time if I'm gonna let you redecorate my whole damned apartment!"

"You're going to let me? Sorry if I don't want to take a shower in that disgusting rat trap you call a bathroom..." she threw out incredulously. Mike opened the door, trying to ignore her insults on his bathroom. "I have no idea how you survived before I came along, Mike."

Digging out money from his wallet, Mike looked up finally to ask, "Twenty-two-fift--who are you?"

A short man and a tall woman stood in the doorway--not carrying bags of food. The man answered him while the woman looked around the inside of the apartment from the doorway. "We're Detectives Schuesetter and Bishop. Captain Mahoney needs you two down at the station right away."

Mike looked at them in confusion and asked, "If it's a new case why didn't he just call?"

Schuesetter looked at him pointedly. "It's not about a case."

TBC

Remember to review, please!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimers, Rating, other information: Chapter 1.

A/N: I know…I know…it's been awhile. But I couldn't get this out of my mind…and then I couldn't quite get it right. And, for anyone worried (and for my own shameless promotion), Recovered is…coming. Sometime soon, I hope. But for now, this is a tasty little plot twist for you all to enjoy! I hope you like it…and PLEASE let me know what you think! (oh, and some people call them goosepimples, but around here, where I'm from at least, we call them goosebumps…so, yeah…hopefully, you'll understand at the end…if not, nevermind…lol)

Last time: (end of chapter 2):

_"We're Detectives Schuesetter and Bishop. Captain Mahoney needs you two down at the station right away."_

_Mike looked at them in confusion and asked, "If it's a new case why didn't he just call?"_

_Schuesetter looked at him pointedly. "It's not about a case."_

Chapter 3

Mike looked back to Carolyn and, seeing the false confidence written on her face, hesitantly knocked on the door in front of him. A sharp yell from inside the office beckoned them in, and they both looked to one another for support before taking a deep breath and entering.

The captain rose from behind the desk and motioned for them to sit down--much like he had only hours before, but this time, his face was etched with disappointment. He watched as they sat and he lowered himself into his seat, adjusting the family portrait on his desk as he did so. Running his thumb over the smooth glass of the frame, he took in a deep breath before beginning. He knew what he had to do to save himself and keep his family from harm. But that didn't make the next words out of his mouth any easier.

"The way I see it, you have three options," He hadn't taken his glance from the photograph as he talked, and Mike looked over at Carolyn with unease. The captain cleared his throat and raised his glance to them before continuing. "Your first option is a voluntary transfer for one of you to either Narcotics or Vice--both very respectable squads that have placements open. The second option is involuntary transfer to whatever department decides they'll take you...and the third option is that I fire one or both of you--in which case, you may or may not be able to find work outside of the city. I guarantee that if you fight with me over this, it will be one of the last two options...but it's your choice."

"I'm sorry, Sir," Carolyn worriedly interrupted, "But what is this about?"

Mahoney looked directly at her and shook his head, preparing himself for denial and a fight. He looked down once more to the photograph on his desk and continued, "Don't play dumb with me, detectives. You can't work in a department with the most observant minds in New York and not expect to get caught."

"Caught doing what, sir?" Mike asked, sounding feigning innocence.

"Sleeping together."

Mike looked indignant and Carolyn's eyes widened.

_Shit,_ Carolyn thought as Mike began to speak on their behalf, chancing that the captain was only bluffing. "Sir, I don't know what you've been told, but--"

"Listen--I'm not in the mood to fight with either of you. So, I'll just save us both some time and aggravation: we've got proof." He reached into the desk drawer and threw down the two most recent photographs. "I hate to be having this conversation with the both of you. I thought you were smarter than to get involved with each other while you were partners. But apparently you weren't and now people know, so I have to take action or it's my ass on the line. So just fess up and we'll get one of you transferred by next week…"

Mike looked at one photograph, handed it to Carolyn, and began examining the other. "Sir, I don't know what you think these are--"

This time the interruption came from Carolyn as she gently laid her hand down on his forearm and looked to the Captain with regret. "I--I'll transfer."

Mahoney gave her a curt nod of acceptance. "What'll it be? Vice or Narcotics?"

Mike looked at her as she answered without acknowledging him. He felt her slipping away, even with the light whisper of her fingertips on his skin. She stared at Mahoney, trying desperately to avoid looking at Mike's pleading face. "Narcotics."

"Okay. I'll put in the request on Friday--have your reassignment request in by Thursday morning," he looked at her for a moment to take in the expression on her face and dismissed them.

"Yes, sir." Carolyn said before she got up and left the office, walking away briskly with her head hung, leaving a stunned Mike Logan in her wake.

The bitter tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision as she ran away from the footsteps chasing after her. Her heart sank as she ran from the career she'd loved—and the man she'd loved even more.

---

Carolyn walked out of the building and into the cold, crisp night air swirling around her on the sidewalk. She had left Mahoney's office in a flurry of emotions--anger, disappointment, sadness, grief, thankfulness--but she hadn't counted on it feeling so damned cold outside. Because of so many nights spent in Mike's apartment with a broken air conditioner and, shall we say, vigorous evening activities, she was filled completely with the notion that all summer nights were disgustingly hot and sticky…

But as she descended the steps of the building, she was hit with a cool breeze that knocked the notion of hot summer nights out of her head for good. She crossed her arms over her chest, already starting to feel the goosebumps rise to the surface of her skin, and she decided that maybe the temperature wasn't the reason she felt so chilled. She looked around and, seeing the restless lights of city traffic far too close for comfort, started to walk home. It hit her a couple steps into her journey that she wasn't actually walking to _her_ home. She was walking to Mike's apartment--without him. Running her hands up and down her arms to generate warmth, she knew that this cold feeling was due, in part, to the fact that she had left the squad room without giving Mike a single glance.

She had left the department without looking in his direction, turned away from him, and practically run out the door. She hadn't even bothered with waiting for the elevator, heading straight for the stairs. And now, standing here catching her breath, confused and alone, she felt something that she hadn't felt in years: broken.

She felt like Mahoney had taken one of his damned golf clubs to her heart and had swung until it ceased to beat. She knew the implications of their actions. She knew that her relationship with Mike would become public the next day. The Gossips would be hearing and telling about Sex-God Mike Logan's latest conquest. She would be the joke of the NYPD, of Major Case, of Narcotics...

And little girls playing with GI Joes everywhere would hear the story and clutch their hearts at the news of their fallen comrade.

As she turned around and headed toward her own apartment, she knew that Mike wouldn't get through this unscathed, either. He was the runt of MCS, and without her and Deakins, the Gossips and the Higher-Ups would be questioning his ability to do his job. They would poke and prod. They would re-open the investigation of the shooting to see if she was padding the details to protect her lover. And, most of all, she feared that his being without her--alone in a department that had just started to accept him--would cause him to become bitter and pained.

It hurt her to think of the consequences of their actions. And standing there in the lonely fluorescent glow of the streetlamp, her heart breaking into jagged pieces, she wondered if it was even worth it.

She ran her hand through her hair and leaned against the side of the building, hidden behind the impersonal greenery decorating the steps. She took out her phone and flipped it open, dialing a number she swore she'd never have to dial again. _There's nothing like crossing burnt bridges_, she thought bitterly. She waited for the phone to ring and when the person on the other end picked up, she took in a sharp gasp of air.

"Hello?" the woman on the other end asked groggily.

"Molly, it's Carolyn--Carolyn Barek." She bit her lower lip in anticipation, hoping that Molly wouldn't hang up.

"Caro? Oh my God, Caro! Babe, it's been too long! Wait...it's...late...what's wrong?"

"Molly...something...bad...just happened and I need a favor."

"Yeah? Name it and you've got it."

"I need you to get me an appointment with Director Stevens."

"Why?"

"I want my job back."

"Caro! No way! Really? I'll get on it first thing in the morning, okay?"

"Thanks, Mol."

"You want to tell me what this is all about?"

"You know my partner right now? Mike?"

"Oh, the cutie?"

"Uh, yeah...well, I slept with him..."

"How was it, Caro?"

"You are such a girl..."

"Oh gawd, how many _times_ did you sleep with him?"

Carolyn rolled her eyes and smiled despite herself. "A lot...but that's…beside the point...the brass---they found out."

"Shit!"

"Yeah, I know."

"Where is he now?"

"Now? I have no idea where he is...I kind of...split..."

"Caro!"

"I know...not my proudest moment...anyway, they're transferring me, but I know that tomorrow morning everyone's going to know--and everyone's going to talk...and I don't think I can take that."

"So you're just going to up and leave him?"

"Well…yeah, but I wouldn't have put it that way!"

"Caro, you can't keep burning all your bridges..."

"I'm not just _leaving_ him...I plan on letting him know...I mean, I think he already knows..."

"So, that's it then? You got caught fucking with your partner and that's it--for the NYPD and for the relationship?"

"I don't know...all I know is...I can't...I can't afford to be with him right now..."

"What do you mean you can't afford it? You've already given up just about everything for him--what's the sense in quitting when you can finally have what you want?"

"Nothing makes sense right now, Mol...I just...I just know that I need to get away..."

"You want me to come over? I mean...I know it's been months, but we're still friends--and the last time a relationship ended for you, I got you right back on your feet...I think I'm still good for that, at least."

"No, really...thanks, but...I just...want to be alone right now."

"Okay...then I'll call you tomorrow morning with some information from Stevens. You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine."

"Call if you need me."

"Will do. And thanks again, Mol...I know it's been awhile, but...thanks." Biting her lip and sending her goodbyes, Carolyn flipped her phone shut. Letting her head fall back against the building, she sighed deeply, wiped away furiously at the single tear that threatened once more to fall, and set off walking home.

Mike had burst through the doors moments before, looking for Carolyn, needing to be near her now more than ever before--desperately reaching for the connection that only they seemed to have. But in his haste at finding her before she disappeared into the night, he stumbled upon a conversation he wished he'd never heard.

Not only was she leaving him, but she was leaving him for the Bureau--a place where she had admitted to him that she never quite fit in. And if she could return so easily to a place she couldn't quite stomach while leaving so hastily the one place she seemed so desperately to love--how was he supposed to feel about their relationship? He knew she was leaving him professionally, but he never dreamed that she would so easily quit their personal life.

Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, he scrubbed his hands down his face and let out an animalistic groan. He knew he wouldn't take their work separation well--that he would be anti-social and otherwise grumpy for weeks. He would be angry and loud and inconsolable. He would be ripping people apart left and right. He would revert back to old mannerisms--rudeness, brusqueness...grunting--because she wouldn't be there to keep him in line or smack him upside the head for being an ass. He knew what he would become in a few short days. It was surer than anything at the moment…

But he had never counted on feeling like this--this sick sadness. This thickness that surrounded the lump in his throat.

As he watched her walk away, oblivious to his voyeurism, he felt his heart sink and his eyes flutter shut in resignation. He didn't care about anything in that moment--his mind, a flurry of questions only ten minutes earlier, had stilled and refocused its attention on one painfully obvious decision.

He had to keep her here. He had to show her that he would be lost without her. He had to prove to her that he wasn't letting her out of his life without a fight.

Because, damnit, he loved her.

TBC.

Please, please review…it makes me feel so…down when there aren't reviews…and then, there's always a long confidence-building period that I have to go through in order to start again. Save me the self-pep-talk, and do it for me! lol.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Disclaimers et alchapter 1.

A/N: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for all the wonderful reviews! And see? My confidence stayed high and the chapter just wrote itself! Thank you so much! Now, on with the show!

Chapter 4

He had given her space that night as he was left picking up the pieces of their foiled relationship. He had gone toward his own apartment, charged his cell phone to full power just incase she called, and crawled into bed in feeble attempts to sleep off the whole ordeal. He fell asleep thinking about the night--he wondered if she could sleep, if her heart was breaking as much as his own, and, sadly enough, if Kenny's delivery boy ever showed up to the empty apartment...

Carolyn, on the other hand, stumbled into her apartment and surveyed the scene before her--taking in each memory of the nights spent at her apartment. She took the towels for Mike's apartment from the dryer, threw them in a box, and locked them in the closet--feeling distinctly that they were mocking her with their presence. She grabbed at the throw pillows they had kicked off the couch earlier and threw them against the wall in anger. Seeing as the act hadn't quite released her from the pit of anger and sadness she felt trapped in, she picked up their water glasses from the coffee table and threw them toward the pillows. She smiled miserably at the loud shatter of broken glass, and curled up into a ball on the couch.

After twenty minutes of wallowing and feeling supremely guilty, Carolyn headed to the cabinet that held her liquor. She pulled out a bottle of rum, vodka, and whiskey to lie before her on the carpet. She eyed them mournfully, and finally snatched the vodka from its resting spot. She curled up on the couch once more, careful to leave the whiskey and rum within reaching distance--just incase.

She decided to forego the shot glass, and took a swig straight from the bottle, wincing roughly as she swallowed a large gulp. She immediately felt like the worst kind of stereotype, and took another swig in attempts to drown out her ever-present thoughts. She kept drinking that way until she focused in on the fact that she was lying there like a slob--slumped over on the couch with two bottles near her feet and one in her hand without a shot glass. _Just like a drunk_, she mused.

By the time the bottle was a little more that three-fourths of the way empty, she felt deliciously warm and hazy. All thoughts of the predicament were forced from her mind, and she lay there staring at her ceiling, contemplating the color of the tile. It wasn't white. It wasn't off-white...and it sure as hell wasn't eggshell. A few more substantial drinks and squints later, she decided it had once been a nice alabaster color, but with time it had been abused and grew into something completely different...some unidentifiable color that was not the same as it once was, but wholly different from what it would yet become. It was a transition color.

Transition white. It had a certain ring to it...one that came too close to the situation at hand for comfort. Transition meant change—meant giving up the moment for something completely different and heart-breaking.

Transition: the most deadly of words.

----

The shrill ringing of her cell phone had woken her with a start--and a pounding headache--at eight the next morning.

"Hello?" she croaked out, not noticing the time or the caller.

"Barek, where the hell are you?" she heard her partner ask ecstatically.

"What?" she asked groggily.

"It's eight, Barek! The captain's pissed about last night as it is, and you just decide that you're gonna take the day off without telling anyone?"

"I wasn'--I...huh? It's eight?"

"Whatever...yeah, it's eight...get your ass in here now, Barek." _Click._

_What's gotten into Mike,_ she thought, confused, before she picked herself and her throbbing head up to go shower.

---

She had arrived at the office a half hour later, looking tired and disheveled--her hangover visible miles away. Her eyes were puffy and dark circles forced their way through the layers of her cover-up. She had held her head in her hands and drank her coffee like it was her only lifeline to civilization. She had taken at least six aspirin throughout the entire day, and hadn't eaten more than a few bites at lunch. But in her time spent nursing a ridiculously lengthy hangover, she had managed to escape the wild innuendo and flying rumors surrounding their partnership as the news of their affair began to spread across the Department.

Mike, completely sober and slightly broken-hearted, had tried his hardest to keep them from the not-so-subtle glares and statements from her direction, fearing that the introduction of such actions would only sink their barely floating relationship. He had heard it all day--the rumors and the harsh whispers from the secretaries to the detectives and vice versa.

_I heard they got caught sleeping together._

_I bet that's how she got her way into Major Case—by fucking anything that gives promotions. _

_If you tell me, I think they should both be expelled—neither of them were ever worth keeping around, anyway._

_All this time, we thought the Sex-God had gone celibate, but he was keeping his latest conquest quiet so he could keep his job. _

_Maybe they actually love each other? –No couple that hides their affair because they care about what other people think is destined to last._

No one believed in their relationship and Mike wondered if maybe Carolyn was right—that maybe they shouldn't be together. Maybe they were on a path that led to a dead-end in disaster.

But just as he had swallowed his pride and tried to keep from listening to everyone else, he heard two voices loud and clear over all the swill.

_So that's it for them, then? They're just gonna give up because they hit a bump in the road? _

–_If you really love the one you broke all the rules for, you don't just stop loving them because everyone says it wasn't real or because you got caught. You keep loving them and when she runs, you follow, because if you don't…if you don't then what was the point of getting caught?_

Mike had heard the entire conversation loud and clear, but what came next, he had never expected. Bobby looked at Alex and she looked back, their eyes locked in understanding. Mike knew that look. It was the look he gave Carolyn every time she worried about their future. It was reassurance. It was love.

----

It ceased to amaze him how quickly word could spread from department to department when the information was gossip. Carolyn, luckily, hadn't seen or heard very much--due mostly to Mike's expertise in ducking questions and glances, but also it was also helped along by her own focus on their newest case.

But the one thing Mike tried desperately to avoid for her during the day was shattered as soon as she left him at seven. He'd hoped for some kind of time for them to be alone, but Carolyn had her nose buried in a report all day long and when she finally realized the time had come for her to go home, she simply picked the file up and walked out with it, still reading it intently. He knew that part of her was truly interested in the case, but also knew her well enough to realize that most of her interested was largely due to the fact that she could go all day without talking to him. She needed distance. He knew that--but it didn't make it any easier on him. He'd heard the entire conversation the previous night, and it tore him up. He knew that he couldn't let her leave him without a single word. She wasn't allowed to have it be that easy. She couldn't just shut off her heart like a water faucet--and even if she wanted to try, he wouldn't let her.

Sitting aimlessly at his desk just after she had left for the night (without so much as a goodbye thrown in his direction), he heard her desk phone ring. He cocked his head and looked at it, looking comically like a big Great Dane. He glanced around and finally reached over to pick it up, deciding that Carolyn wasn't coming back for it any time soon. He barked his name into the phone and listened as a woman on the other end confusedly asked for Carolyn.

"She's left for the night, but this is her partner speaking. Is there anything I can help you with?" He reached for a pad of paper and a pen, just incase.

The woman on the other end laughed amusedly. "Oh...the infamous Mike Logan? Tell her that Molly called and that she should call me back tonight, okay?"

"Oh...Molly? From the Bureau?"

"Oh, gawd no! This is Molly Stevens...she'll know who I am."

"Do you want her cell number?"

"Nah, just tell her to give me a call when she gets time tonight."

"Uh, I'm not going to see her until tomorrow morning, so I think I should just give you her cell--"

"And what the hell is wrong with _you_?" Molly asked incredulously, before turning serious. "Are you stupid?"

"I...umm...no, I'm not stupid..."

"Then why the hell aren't you chasing her cute little butt out the door tonight?"

"We aren't--"

"The hell you aren't! Don't worry, Caro told me...and plus, there's no use in denying it any longer since, according to her, everyone else knows..."

"I heard you two talk last night--she told you we were over...I'm not quite sure what's so hard to understand about that..." he said testily.

"And if you've been with Caro long enough to build a relationship that might challenge that workaholic's career, then you damn well better know that when she pushes you away, she needs you closer than ever. If you gave her space after that conversation, then I'll give you credit for not being a dumb ass; but if you let her go home tonight to drink herself into a coma, I'm gonna kill you."

"Wh--wh..."

"You're smart enough to know when it's too much, but, my God, you aren't smart enough to realize that she might need you more than she lets you see."

"I need her, too, but I don't want to push her away by trying too hard when she needs to be alone…"

"I guarantee that last night she got off the phone with me, opted to walk home, opened her liquor cabinet and drank whatever was in it until she fell asleep. Bet she was late this morning, wasn't she?"

"Well...yeah..."

"And she had a killer hangover that lasted through at least four aspirin and stayed strong until she left for home?"

"Six aspirin and…yeah..."

"Now tonight, she's gonna swear off alcohol for the rest of her life because she's still nauseous and has a splitting headache. So, my guess is, she left without saying goodbye--trying to distance herself--but when she gets home, she's gonna lay down on her couch and think about everything. About you, about her career, and about running away. She'll consider moving to Seattle or Chicago...might even book herself a one-way ticket and start packing her things...but she'll realize what a stupid idea that was and cancel it. She'll clean up the things she broke last night and clean like you've never seen anyone clean before. Almost like she's trying to wish it all away…and if you call, she won't answer...but if she does, she'll hang up before you get to tell her you love her."

"This happen a lot?"

"No, but I know her well enough to think she'll do anything different. Despite what she says, she needs you tonight and it terrifies her that she might love and want something that isn't her career. So she'll push you away so fast, your head'll spin. And by the time you figure it out, she'll have cut the cord--emotionally and physically."

"If you know all of this is going to happen, then what am I supposed to do to stop it?"

"Damn, Mike...I'm glad you said that. I knew she'd find you one of these days..."

"Molly?"

"You go over there tonight and with every push, you push back harder. Everytime she turns to run, you hold her. She's too independent to know anything but running away...and she needs you to be strong enough to let her fight herself about all the decisions she's making and she needs you to pick up the battle after she's conceded—when she thinks that it's easiest just to start over somewhere else…"

"Thanks, Molly."

"Tell her to call me tonight...and, hell, that can be your excuse for seeing her, for all I care...as long as you get in the door…"

Mike didn't even send a goodbye as he slammed the receiver down on the cradle, grabbed his things, and sprinted to the elevator (almost tripping over a chair in the hallway).

He hoped that he'd catch her before she left the building, but figured that after his conversation with Molly, she'd be far gone.

When he stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, he was met with a sight he thought he'd never see. There before him, in the middle of the lobby of One PP, was Carolyn Barek and a flimsy-looking secretary. Carolyn, her hands wrapped around a file folder, was bolted to the floor with the most dreadful look on her face. Her face was red and, had she been a cartoon, Mike supposed there would have been steam pouring out her ears.

The tall, blonde, stick figure of a secretary stood there in her pencil skirt and pearls, looking devilishly innocent. Her green eyes were big and round, clearly terrified out of her mind at what this short, scrappy detective was going to do to her.

Mike watched in amusement as Carolyn tore into the woman, yelling and ranting like he'd never seen before. He tried to concentrate on the words spewing from her lips because this was a first: Carolyn Barek _never_ lost her cool.

Listening for a minute, his eyes got wide at what he knew had to have happened. All day, he'd tried to hide her away from the gossip, but he couldn't control what happened when he wasn't around to distract her. As he kept listening to her berate the woman, he quickly sprang into action when he felt she was getting into dangerous territory.

"…and if I _ever_ hear you talking shit about me and my life and my decisions, you can become better acquainted with my—" She lifted her fist in an angry fury, but before she could continue, she was shocked to feel a strong arm wrap itself around her middle. The arm, attached to one Mike Logan, picked her up off the floor and carried her toward the door. He made his apologies to the woman as Carolyn waved her hands around in attempts to free herself from his grasp.

As soon as they were outside, he set her down on the sidewalk. She whipped around to face him, still red-faced and furious, and began to scream at him as well.

"Mike Logan, how _dare_ you—" She began angrily until a finger was placed upon her lips, effectively silencing her.

"Think about this, Caro…is making a scene worth all of this?" She narrowed her eyes at him and stayed silent, shaking her head in the negative. "Okay…that's what I thought. Now, I'm taking you home and we're gonna talk and then you're gonna call Molly."

She began to shake her head and disagree, when he interrupted her again, "No, Carolyn, we need to talk whether you like it or not…I'll pick you up and carry you if I have to…and I don't think you want that."

"Fine."

TBC

A/N: You know the drill…you keep my confidence high, the chapter comes rolling in…because then the writer's block fairy stays away! lol.


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